Sitting Ducks
by ChelseaBurger22
Summary: Ranma is trading info with a government lackey when a shooting takes place. Now he's the leading suspect in a murder, the detective assigned to his case being none other than Akane Tendo. Possible crossover with InuYasha in later chapters. RxA
1. Welcoming Committee

**A/N:** Hey there guys! New story (again)! I deleted one of my other ones because I didn't like it, and I've wanted to write this for quite some time now. So here it is. This very well might be a crossover fic with InuYasha, which I hope I can pull off... But I hope you enjoy the first chapter. Proceed.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Ranma 1/2, nor do I own the Anonymous quote below. Instead I'm stuck here, writing some lame spin off, and _quoting _from a quote. Gee, that's exciting, hm?

**Sitting Ducks**

**_Chapter One_ - Welcoming Committee**

"_If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence of trying."_

- Anonymous

"And Ranma, whatever happens... you must _not,_ under any circumstances leak information to anyone outside of this circle. It could ruin everything. Understood?" Ranma tapped a calloused finger against the subway seat beside him, his misty gray eyes rolling heavenward as he sighed, "You got it, boss." Before the authority figure on the other end of the line could form a response, The pig-tailed man snapped his pocket-sized phone closed with a 'click'.

"Asshole." He grunted, slouching further into his seat and taking into consideration the formidable stares several of the other passengers were sending his way. The hassled young man let his eyes drift closed in irritation, only opening them at the shrill alarm of a digital watch. 12 o'clock ... in the morning. Boy, was he tired. He sat up abruptly, his hand digging deep into the inside of his jacket. His fingers closed around a stiff object in his pocket, and he withdrew his hand, empty, and thoroughly reassured.

The train began to slow, grinding against the railing beneath them and radiating an ear-shattering scream , as Ranma stood tiredly. The dirty, yellow-stained doors slid open at a pace more sluggish than Ranma's, and the said youth willed himself onto the platform. Once there, he sighed again with more gusto, glancing around at his fellow late-night travelers. They were few and far between, and he began to grow irritated as his eyes scanned the crowd fruitlessly. Then, all at once he came upon a scraggly looking man dressed in torn pants and a mud-coated jacket. He was fairly old, with what few hairs he had remaining in a greasy tangle about his head and a sodden cardboard sign about his neck which read, "_Homeless, need money_. "

Ranma began to stroll past the man leisurely, dropping Five yen into the rusty tin cup at his feet. The old man blearily glanced inside his can, before blinked and settling back against the wall. Ranma continued past him until he had reached the stairwell which he followed up into a deserted street beside a park covered in shadow. He continued through the park until he reached the children's playground, long since deserted for a cozy home and dinner on the table.

Once there, the young man flicked his pigtail impatiently, growing bitter at the chill weather surrounding him. He slumped down beside a large tree, and commenced waiting. After a mere ten minutes, the anxious boy stood abruptly, pacing and groaning as he occasionally pulled a pocket watch from his pant pocket. Just as he began grinding his pearly teeth together in impatience, another shadow appeared through the trees: a hunched figure with a sloppy limp and a knack for causing a ruckus as he staggered toward Ranma.

"Oi, old man, what took you so damn long?" The other man grunted, settling against a strong tree trunk and fishing through his pockets for something. Ranma's hand hovered momentarily over the gun in his holster beneath the seam of his t-shirt. Just in case.

"Got a light, sonny?" He wheezed dramatically, reaching a cigarette toward the young man. Ranma pulled a metallic lighter from his jean pocket and flipped it open. The dim light that the flame allowed gave Ranma a good view of his companion. His greasy hair was slicked back in it's dirtiness, showing a deep receding hairline and smudgy skin. His ragged clothing hung over his thin form like a potato sack over a broomstick. Set beside him was a covered tin can and a soggy cardboard sign. "Thanks kid." He grinned.

Ranma danced from foot to foot impatiently as the decrepit man drew in a deep breath, before exhaling a foggy cloud of bitter-smelling smoke. The old man glanced toward Ranma as he continued to fidget, before grinning and adding, "You ever consider quitting your day job and becoming a dancer?"

"You ever consider _doing _your job, so you can stop wasting both our time?" His mysterious companion guffawed heartily, "You young people these days have no patience. Deary me, let an old man catch his breath, why don't you?" Ranma scowled disdainfully at the older man's chuckling form.

"Well, that's all nice and well, but I have better things to do than wait around for some old coot to accumulate lung cancer by the swing-set." He huffed bitterly and rubbed his icy hands together. The said smoker dropped his still-burning cigarette to the dusty floor and crushed it beneath his scuffed army boot. His expression turned grim - or at least that's what Ranma imagined there in the dark - and he cleared his throat.

"Fair enough. Do you have it, boy?"His deep, guttural, voice becoming business-like in an instant. Ranma nodded, "Yeah, it's here", all business himself, and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. Grasping the disc in his hands, he handed it over to the elderly man before pulling out a document and flicking open his lighter to make it easier on the old man's eyes. He scanned the document quickly, nodding to himself.

"That'll do. But There's something I need to tell you before we go our separate ways. We did some background checks on you kid... to make sure you were legitimate and everything... and I think there's one thing you should know..." The youth nodded slowly, suspiciously aware of the other man's hesitance.

"The man we're after has - " Several gunshots rang through the shadowy park, breaking the eery quiet surrounding the two. Ranma ducked behind a tree as his companion dropped wordlessly to the grassy floor beside him. He grabbed the handle of the gun tucked into his belt, grasping it firmly in his right palm and let fire in the direction he felt the presence emanating from.

"Sneaky bastard." He cursed as he thought back to the moment before the shooting began. He had heard nothing. Seen nothing. Felt nothing. He had to be over-worked or something because... no one _ever_ snuck up on Ranma Saotome.

Only moments later, the distant singing of sirens echoed through the empty streets. Ranma cursed again, more vehemently this time. His attacker had apparently bolted at the local law's interruption, so the young man replaced his gun in the belt of his jeans and bent over his companion who had remained quiet throughout the whole affair.

"Yo, old man! We gotta run for it - the cops are coming!" He shook the man vigorously. The elderly man made no response. He tried again, shoving the still man forcefully. "Hey! I

_said_ -", but he interrupted himself, pulling his hand away as if it were ablaze. The dirty jacket and scarf the man had wore were stained dark with the scarlet of this stranger's blood, and they soaked up his draining life like an over-saturated sponge. He was dead . Ranma drew in a sharp breath, "Dammit... now what am I gonna do?"

He gave the corpse a look of distaste as he plunged his hand into the body's bloody clothing. Ranma kept his eyes tightly screwed shut as he searched his pockets. "Jackpot." He yanked out the disc he had given the agent moments before, thinking frantically of where he might put it so the police wouldn't find it. It was far too late for him to escape capture. They were practically infiltrating the monkey bars. He reached into a nearby trash can, pulled out an old McDonald's kiddy-bag, and shoved the disc inside. Glancing nervously toward the arriving police, he shoved a rock inside with the disc and chucked it into the high branches of the tree above him, praying that it would remain safely unnoticed while they took him in.

He pulled out the document he had kept in another pocket, and proceeded to set it on fire with his lighter, before he threw it into the trash. And then he remembered... "Fuck, my gun!" He yanked it from his waste, thanking the lord and all that is holy that he had been wearing his leather gloves all night. Without another moment's hesitation, he chucked it in the direction his attacker had been moments before.

On another impulse, he searched the tree trunk where they had been shot at, and used the small wooden letter-opener he carried around to dig out the bullets that had buried themselves there. He pocketed them, tossing the letter-opener into the flaming trash can as well. It was sloppy. The worst cover-up job he had ever managed to pull off, but... he gave himself a mental pat on the back as the police arrived. He had managed it all in five minutes, give or take a few seconds.

He knew they'd be able to catch him for something, but with a great lawyer and a little persuasion from the government, the worst they could do was pat his butt and send him off with a warning. He would just have to be more careful next time. He had to insure that there would _be_ no next time.

Unfortunately, it had cost him his gun, his only form of identification in a foreign country, most likely his job, and to top it all off, he had just reduced his favorite letter-opener to ashes. Damn those cops. Damn that stranger. Damn his luck.

He sighed dramatically as a group of idiots clad in uniform barraged him, sticking the barrel of there guns up his nose, handcuffs on his wrists, and a knee up his ass. A young man about a head taller than Ranma, began, "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney..." etc., etc. ... These guys were dull.

Ranma easily shrugged the man off his back, experimentally testing the strength of his handcuffs. Should he bolt? It would be so easy... no. He figured it would be best to play along with their little charade. Maybe he'd shove his palm up this idiot's nose cartilage once his boss got him out of there.

All of a sudden, Ranma was forcefully shoved against the rough bark of a tree. His nose was crushed up against the stub of a newly forming branch, and he blinked as a lacquered green leaf stuck his open eye. He yelped, "What the hell was _that _for?"

"You were resisting arrest. I had to get rough with you." A new voice spoke up merrily from behind. Surprisingly, It was a female voice. Ranma grit his teeth. He could practically hear her smirking triumphantly. Bitch. He struggled futilely, growing more frustrated at the idea of being weakened by a _woman_.

"Knock it off, moron. You're only making it harder on yourself." She spun him around so that he was facing her. His jaw dropped in sheer awe. She was petite. Probably four inches shorter than himself. She was thin - feeble looking, almost. Delicate. He snorted. She was cute.

"You _do_ look dangerous." She smiled prettily, cocking her head to the side. She laughed easily at his sour expression, and he turned away from her. She laughed again, this time patting his arm. "You can act as tough as you want, buddy, but you can't fool me." Ranma snorted at her in response. She only smiled, turning his face toward hers with strong, sure fingers."We're going to become very close over the next few days, wether you like it or not."

Gee... and here he was thinking this night couldn't get any better.

* * *

Review! Review! Review! ... don't mind me, I'm just sending you subliminal messages, so you might unconciously leave me a... review! Review! Review!  



	2. King of Fools

**A/N: **Hey there friends! New chapter for the new story. I've decided on balancing my spare time between this story and _In the Midst of Battle _because... well, I don't know why. :) But that's my decision. Hope this story draws more of a crowd. Okay then. On with the show!

**DISCLAIMER: **Don't own Ranma 1/2. Geez, I feel like I'm insulting people's intelligence by continually repeating myself. I apologize in advance. :)**  
**

**Chapter Two - King of Fools**

"_Tim was so learned he could name a horse in nine languages. So ignorant that he bought a cow to ride on."_

- Benjamin Franklin

Geez, what a mess. Akane shifted through the remains of whatever had been in the park trash can before it had been set ablaze. She quickly pulled back the rotting stick she had been using in her search as the pitter patter of distant feet became evident to her remarkable hearing.

"Akane, how many times do I have to tell you? Don't go rummaging through my work." Akane snorted as she stood, turning to face the annoyed expression of her friend and co-worker. The girl before her shook her head in frustration as she caught a glimpse of the tool Akane still held. Akane cleared her throat, hiding the stick with one hand behind her back and grinning sheepishly.

"I only wanted to check for the bullets missing from the tree trunk, Kagome."

The said young woman laughed scornfully, and spoke as if she were scolding a child.

"My dear, dear, Akane. I will only tell you this _one more time_... that's _my_ job. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't get paid for cleaning upyour messes." Kagome smiled at the sour expression of the young police officer, bending over the trash can remains just as Akane had done moments before. She touched one gloved finger to a partially charred piece of paper. A document, maybe... but she couldn't read it.

She stood abruptly, giving Akane a teasing glare and gesturing toward the young culprit seated in the back seat of a police vehicle. "Shouldn't you be attending to your dashing charge? He looks awfully lonely." Akane sighed, glancing behind her to follow the analyst's finger. The said young man- as if feeling their attentions directed toward him- turned to meet Akane's frazzled expression. He held her curious gaze for a moment before snorting abruptly and turning away.

"He seems somewhat... chilly in manner. Don't you think?" Akane returned, crossing her arms before her chest. Kagome only smiled charmingly and winked. At that, Akane seemed pleased to duplicate the afore mentioned man's childish actions in the most unladylike snort ever to grace her lips.

"Looks like our perp used some kind of alcohol to really get this bonfire going. I'm pretty sure that the fire started with this piece of paper here, though." She commented, returning to her professional manner.

"Alcohol like...?"Akane questioned. Kagome nodded, "Like beer." She stated bluntly. She ran her un-gloved hand through her long raven locks, frustrated, "Right now, I really can't say this fire had anything to _do _with the murder. It could've just been the old man's means of staying warm."

"Well, he definitely had the right idea, then." Akane responded grumpily, running her numb hands up and down her arms in a futile attempt to discourage her goose bumps. The young officer sighed after a moment, sympathizing with her friend's difficult job.

"As always, you've got your work cut out for you Kagome." Akane stood from squatting next to the burnt mass, and lifted a lazy hand in departure. Kagome smiled, calling, " I'll send someone down to you when I get some results. Have fun with killjoy over there." She smiled to herself and continued her work as Akane grumbled fretfully under her breath all the way to the police car.

* * *

"Oh, don't stop talking to yourself on my account. By all means, continue." Ranma commented snidely as Akane neared his open window. Akane considered pulling out her gun and giving him a good butt to the head, but decided wisely against it. Instead she plastered a weak smile on her face and tore the latex gloves from her small hands. 

"Did the 'you have the right to remain silent' part of our speech somehow escape your patient ears at some point during the evening?" He only smirked irritatingly and replied, "I have a natural aversion to stupid people in uniform." Akane blanched, responding before she could even think, "Idiot! You're digging your own grave, saying things like that! Do you _want_ to go to jail?"

"I'm not too worried about that, miss. You shouldn't be either." Akane only shook her head, her eyes permanently bulging half-way out of their sockets from shock at his careless view of his arrest. She walked around the side of the car, taking her place at the front wheel. Her version of a police car was a smooth black BMW with leather seats and a makeshift cage to keep the villains in the back seat, out of the front seat. There was a solid metal bar that ran the length of the back right and left doors in which to safely secure the prisoner's handcuffs. Up front, Akane buckled her sleek seatbelt, and fiddled with the car radio until she found her preferred station. Ranma groaned.

"Great. Out of all the cops I could have gone to the station with, I get stuck with the chick blasting _Backstreet Boys_. This must be what Hell is like." He pulled grudgingly at the cuffs that secured his hands. Once. Twice. Then he was free. He quickly plunged his fingers into his ears.

"This isn't the _Backstreet boys_, idiot. It's the _Beatles_. There's no connection whatsoever."She spared a moment to glance at him through her rearview mirror, and abruptly stomped on the brakes, screaming, "What the hell?" as they careened sideways toward the deserted sidewalk. Ranma swiftly unplugged his ears, allowing one eye to open and notice that they were dangerously close to flattening a dark blue postal box.

_And_ she couldn't drive. Great. He gripped the back of the seat in front of him, readying himself for the jolt, but getting his face smashed against the cage in front of him just the same. They hit the mailbox... hard... and stumbled into the brick wall beside it. She had to have been going _pretty_ fast to hit the wall with such conviction. Maniac.

"What are you trying to do!" He screamed at her from his inconvenient spot against the cage. A second later and the air bags popped in motion, suffocating her answer out of her. There was a slight cut, about an inch long across her forehead- a result from when a glass piece from her front window shattered. The front door opened, and she clumsily dragged herself out from behind the air bag. Her breathing was heavy as she knelt on the floor, but she quickly recovered, whipping her gun out from her black slacks and aiming it right between his eyes.

"What am I _doing_? What am _I_ doing? You just slipped out of your handcuffs!" She was all but in hysterics. Obviously, nothing like this had ever happened to her before. What a boring job it must be.

"So?" He asked, puzzled. He showed her his hands, waving them to and fro. "I'm not going to try anything! What's your problem?" He screamed back, trying to be heard above her babbling. She pulled the back door open viciously, keeping a gun pointed at him, one hand grabbing his forearm and yanking him out of his seat and into the street. Maybe he should have kept the handcuffs on.

* * *

Akane watched warily as Ranma slowly made his way out of the car. She cursed herself inwardly. How could she have allowed him to do that? And her car! What a waste! As soon as he was fully out of the vehicle, she lunged for his hands, bringing them behind him as he simply let her take action. He looked confused - it was kind of... adorable. Bleah. There she goes again. 

"Wow, you really did a number on that car of yours. Yeesh." Ranma remarked, wincing as the rear-view mirror dangled for a moment before crashing to the cement. Akane scowled behind him, shoving yet another pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

"Shut up."

"Hey! Watch it!" He whined as she tightened the cuffs so they were turning his hands slightly blue. She pushed him lightly so he leaned against the broken car's trunk.

"Don't move or I'll shoot you." She emphasized her threat with a click of the safety on her gun. Akane returned to the driver's side door and yanked it open, nearly crying when she accidently pulled it off it's hinges out of pure rage.

"Dammit!" She was just so angry right now.

Whipping out her radio, she fiddled with it for a few minutes, beating it heavily against the roof of the car, before it began crackling violently.

"I need... assistance. Immediately." She spoke awkwardly. There was a short intermission of static, which Ranma assumed must have been the other officer responding.

"On Mulberry right before the intersection. Yeah. Thanks." She slammed the radio back into it's receiver, (A/N: Or whatever you call it ; ), and strode angrily toward Ranma's lazy position leaned against the car.

"Do you normally get this excited over a case?" He asked, grinning as she noticeably grit her teeth.

"No, Smartass. I always drive my car into walls in order to spend quality time with murderers while we wait to be towed. It's how I get my kicks in life." Akane responded cynically. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. He shrugged uncomfortably under her scrutiny, but remained leaning against the car.

"Where are your handcuffs?" She asked suspiciously, pulling him up and spinning him around. His hands remained clasped together, but the handcuffs were now dangling from his fingers. They clinked together as she reached for her gun once more. Before she knew it, though, she was on the floor, the gun kicked from her grip, and her hands held tightly behind her back.

"What are you -" She was cut off when Ranma slapped a hand over her mouth. Akane immediately began to struggle, using her many years of training and accumulated strength to no avail.

"Listen up. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to let you go, but if you make any noise, I'll have to knock you out... alright?" Akane nodded vigorously, her eyes shut loosely and her eyebrows knitted together. Ranma slowly withdrew his hands, allowing her to sit up and lean against the tire of her car. She looked at him for a long moment, no emotion visible in her clear chocolate eyes. She took a deep breath, keeping her eyes glued to her attacker.

"You son of a -" she screamed angrily before Ranma slapped a calloused hand over her mouth once more, pushing her back against the hub cap until it dug into her back. She attempted to bring her arms out in front of her so that she might deck him properly, but realized with dread and some amazement, that her fists were handcuffed together. With _her_ handcuffs.

"What the hell did I just say?" Ranma demanded angrily, bringing his face close to hers. Her eyes grew wide as she kicked violently with her legs. Ranma abruptly switched his position so that he was sitting on top of her swinging legs. He sighed with some exaggerated drama.

"Now I can't trust you." Her eyes instantly narrowed and she spit out a muffled reply. Ranma puzzled over her mouthful of words that he couldn't understand.

"What?"

"Mmufd duu uuu mmnabd?"

"Say again?"

Akane growled and bit into his palm with anger. He yelped, "Youch!", yanking his hand away and cradling it protectively before his chest. She almost laughed at the wounded expression on his face. Almost.

"I _said, _what do you want, jerk?" His attention returned to her once more, and he grinned childishly.

"How 'bout a date?"

"How about you go to hell?" Akane screamed back in frustration.

A siren could be heard in the distance, drawing steadily nearer. Ranma cursed under his breath - Akane's heart cheered. Suddenly, he turned to her. His expression was serious, his eyes sincere. She sucked in a breath, admiring the crystal beauty of his eyes.

"I didn't kill the old man. A true martial artist would _never_ killwith a gun." And just like that, he was gone. Vanished. Disappeared.

The police cars arrived, rushing over to Akane as she sat puzzling over the escapee. One man asked, as if on cue, "Where's the suspect?"Akane glanced up, her gaze clouded with thought, and shrugged. The man started barking out orders, sending men to search after the escaped man. "He couldn't have gotten far."

And here she had thought she knew everything there was to know about her job. She had thought she had seen every kind of criminal out there. She was so ignorant. She was nowhere close.

"Are you alright Akane? He didn't hurt you?" Akane looked up at a different man in front of her, her eyes clearing in recognition.

"No Kouga. I'm alright." Kouga nodded, his expression serious. He bent over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Do you want me to catch him? I can still smell his scent." Akane met his eager gaze with surprise. Did she want to catch him? After a moment, she shook her head.

"No. Let him go for now." Sometimes, you just had to follow your instincts. Her gut was telling her that that man was innocent. And it wasn't just because he had a nice ass.

* * *

**Review. Let me know what you think. **


	3. Dogged Ties

**A/N:**Hey there! Another new chapter! Geez, I'm just blowing through these! I know, I should be updating my other story, but... when inspiration hits, you gotta just let it flow. So, I don't know how good this chapter turned out... I think that inspiration I talked about has just about expired itself. But I wanted to introduce Inuyasha and Shampoo into the story. Too bad I had no idea how. Anyway, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! 

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Ranma ½, Inuyasha, or Mark Twain, though all of the above are great subjects to consider. I love Mark Twain... such a funny man.

**Chapter Three - Dogged Ties**

"_Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence in society."_

- Mark Twain, _More Maxims of Mark_, Johnson, 1927

Damn, it reeked. The smell of death hung about the air like a phantom. It was six-thirty in the morning, and there was _nothing_ he hated more than working before ten a.m.. Well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. If there was anything he hated _more_ than getting up early in below freezing weather to spend hours of his time sucking up the nauseating odor of rotting flesh... well, it had to be spending the entire lovely experience wearing a damned Armani suit.

It wasn't the Armani, per se... it was the fact that he had to wear a suit at all. At least when he was investigating a case. Or when he had to hang around at the headquarters and look reasonable for his boss. And what a bitch she was... Why did he hate his job so much? Out of all the shit that came with being the man he was... it was the fact that he was so _bored _with his life that really nagged at his mindNothing_ happened. _Despite what they lead the common citizen to believe... being a special agent is _not _all it's cracked up to be. It sucked.

So what was he currently spending precious Sunday hours doing, you might ask? Well, identifying a dead body, of course! What else? That and helping with the investigation... obviously. But that mainly consisted of giving the few police assigned to the case a good verbal lashing in order to get them _really _motivated. If he had to work his ass off all the time, so did they. At least while he was around.

He sighed, taking a slow, lazy walk around the entire expanse of the park. He had already identified the body. One of their agents. Now the FBI was involved, and he was the lucky son of gun that got to survey the situation.

The relatively young agent's thoughts drifted in and out of his cynical self pity, occasionally growling out his frustrations to himself. He had almost completely circled the park, when his foot bumped a heavy object that skittered away from his toes at his kick

"What the...?" He asked no one in particular as he pulled on a latex glove he carried around in his pocket for this specific purpose. Obviously, no one had inspected this side of the park yet. He'd just picked up a fucking gun! How could they miss this? He dropped the weapon into a ziplock bag which he also remembered to keep handy on a crime scene, and began his lazy saunter over to an idle police officer nearby.

"Hey lazy-ass, take this evidence to the officer in charge. It's important, so make sure he gets it." The man before him gave him a narrowed, dangerous glare. His dark hair was long and kept up in a ponytail, and he reeked of wolf. This man was, obviously, a yokai. Swell.

Their gazes locked briefly, each sensing the other's discomfort and unprovoked hatred. Kouga let out a mean growl from deep inside his throat, his eyebrows furrowed in anger, as if to say, 'Who the hell are _you_?' It was funny, the territorial instincts of their animal personalities that naturally carried into their daily human-like lives.

"What's going on, Kouga?" Akane questioned as she strode up to the pair. After overhearing the other's rude demand, she figured she had better step in before things got ugly. She waited several moments, allowing some open hostility between the two, before calmly snatching the bagged gun from the agent's clawed fingers.

"And you are?" She directed the question toward the seemingly silver-haired yokai. The said man turned violently on her, his golden eyes sparking with unspoken rivalry from his previous encounter. Obviously, the two men weren't going to become fast friends. Akane smiled, encouraging him to speak.

"Who are _you_?" He asked suspiciously, loosening his silk tie as he glared down at her. Akane's friendly smile abruptly turned sour. She stuck out a hand forcefully, knowing that politeness was the easiest way to deal with self-assured jackasses like the man before her.

"My name's Akane Tendo. I'm in charge here." She added, waving the evidence bag in front of his gawking eyes. He continued to look at her in an openly stricken, disbelieving way, until Kouga interrupted. By then, Akane had let her hand drop back to her side.

"Hey, the lady asked for your name. Don't be such an ass." Akane smiled at him, bemused, and gently scolded, "Kouga!" Initiating a warning growl from Inuyasha. The hanyou looked between the two, before settling his gaze on Akane.

"The name's Inuyasha. I'm an agent for the FBI. I'm here to supervise." He returned, gaining some semblance of intellect back. The woman was so... tiny. Delicate. _Innocent_. She obviously hadn't been on the job long. Akane nodded in acknowledgment, giving the hanyou a good once-over. He would have been annoyed if he hadn't done the same thing to her seconds earlier. They were sizing each other up, just as a good pair of crime fighters should do. Inuyasha scoffed.

"May I ask why you carry a sword, Inuyasha? A little behind on the times, are we?" Akane asked, grinning. She lifted a lazy hand in order to wave vaguely at the old sword attached to the agent's hip. Inuyasha scowled.

"It's a long story. You're so busy, I wouldn't want to distract you from your work." He added mock-sweetly eyeing the mess of an investigation before him. She was definitely new on the job. Akane scowled for a moment or two, before lifting her sunny face and replying with a false smile, "My men are confident enough on their own. But you're right - I have better things to do. So I'll see you around, Inuyasha." She turned her back on the two men, strolling back to her borrowed car to grab the coffee resting there. They regarded her silently, Inuyasha scowling deeply at her smugness, Kouga even more smug than Akane herself.

"She's one tough cop, that girl." Kouga laughed. Inuyasha gave him a dirty glare, muttered a "feh", and turned to re-examine the area where he had found the gun. By now his tie was so loose, it hung about his neck like a slack noose. Stupid job.

* * *

Shit. Just what he needed. Ranma sighed, surveying the park from a nearby rooftop. He slumped against the short brick wall surrounding the edge of the roof, and tossed the binoculars onto the ground so that they skittered to a halt in front of a heating system. The only microphone bug he had had with him the night before had been invested in the recovery of the disc. He had placed the minuscule machine in a jacket pocket of Akane's while she had struggled against him. He had heard everything from his perch on the roof's wall. Thus, the dread settling uneasily in his stomach.

Inuyasha, huh? And this Kouga guy was obviously a demon as well. A yokai with a good sense of smell was definitely _not_ what he needed right now. But he being the lucky guy that he was, got not one, but _two_ fucking hound dogs sniffing around his disc. What he needed was to get that damn information back into his possession before his boss figured out that the contact had been murdered and Ranma had screwed up. And that posed a whole other shit load of unanswerable questions and problems that Ranma really could have done without.

Who was that last night? How did they sneak up on him like that? There had only been two times in his entire career that Ranma had ever had to use a gun. The first time was against some lunatic named Saffron that tried to bomb Furinken Highschool. The second time was obviously... yesterday. Which led to yet another problem. He realized only too late that, although he had disposed of the mystery attacker's bullets from the tree trunk, he had forgotten about the two shots he had fired towards the unnamed assailant.

Now that FBI idiot - who was _supposed _to be on his side - was sniffing around the very spot he didn't want him to check. All of the unfortunate events of the past few hours seemed to crash down on him at once, and he was almost tempted to ask, "What _else _can go wrong?", but was beaten to it when he felt the familiar vibrations of his phone from deep inside his pocket. There was only one person that would dare contact him when he was on an assignment...

"Hello?" He groaned, his stomach turning over with dread.

"Nihao Airen! (A/N: is that how you spell it?)" Shampoo bubbled into the phone. "Shampoo call to ask how job go! Airen have time for date?" Ranma almost cried. His life sucked. He replied evenly, willing his voice to remain calm.

"Shampoo you're my partner, not my fiancé. I'm _not_ gonna marry you. Got it?" The line remained silent for only a moment before she began sobbing into the receiver.

"Ranma so cruel to Shampoo!" Ranma sighed again, lifting a placating hand even as he realized she couldn't see him.

"Calm down Shampoo. I'm on an assignment, remember? But I have a favor to ask you, alright?" He heard nothing in response, and took it as an affirmation, so he continued.

"I ran into some trouble last night, and my contact was murdered. Now the disc is hidden in a tree at the crime scene, but the place is swarming with cops. I need you to pose as an officer and grab it for me. Can you do that?" Shampoo hesitated. How could she use this situation to her advantage? She smiled to herself schemingly, and answered, "Of course Shampoo can. But Ranma will owe Shampoo. Understand?" Ranma sighed again, this time with relief. Whatever the consequences, they were completely worth her saving his ass.

"You got it Shampoo. Anything you want." He added enthusiastically, too overcome with relief to realize what he had just gotten himself into. Shampoo laughed giddily.

"Anything?" She asked sweetly.

"_Anything._" was his happy reply. They said their goodbyes quickly, shifting into professional mode.

"I'll be right over." She chirped. Ranma nodded to himself. It was a good thing he had asked her to stick around her hotel for an extra day.

* * *

"_Now_ where'd that wench go?" Inuyasha ground out irritably, His eyes scanning the park and it's occupants briskly. That woman was like a magician. Akane always seemed to disappear when he needed her. Oh well. None of his concern. He'd just turn over his findings to _his _lab, along with the gun he had found earlier. He knew it to be secured inside one of the officer's cars. It wasn't theft exactly... he'd just be saving the station some extra work.

The impatient hanyou pulled a small phone out of his designer pocket, and flipped the little piece of technology open, dialing buttons jerkily with one clawed finger.

"It's Inuyasha. I have some stuff I want you to analyze at the lab. Yeah, I'll get it to you right away. Okay, thanks." He replied breezily, snapping the phone shut and returning it to his pants.

"We _do _have a lab conveniently stationed just around the corner for the very purpose of analyzing evidence, you know. And I have reason to believe Akane has no idea you're planning on taking evidence from the crime scene... but that's just ridiculous - that would be stealing _And_ obstruction of justice. You're obviously not the kind of lying, scheming man that would do something like that." Inuyasha winced, turning slowly to come face to face with yet another young woman on the job. His stomach sank with dread.

"Kagome. Nice to see you again." He added weakly as she continued to look him over with eyes that burned with repressed anger. She smiled sweetly at the young agent, tilting her head to the side until everything about her demeanor screamed 'cute'. Inuyasha froze in his spot, anticipating a very unfriendly welcome by his former co-worker.

"Oh, Inuyasha, don't look so _tense_." She sang out through her false smile. She continued, "There's no reason to be so formal. We're still good friends, eh?" She took several steps toward him, and Inuyasha was powerless against her advances. She lifted a dainty hand to his neck, fingering the beads that hung there. He cringed at the coolness of her fingers as they brushed his skin.

"My, it's been a long time since I've seen these. That was a rather rewarding experiment, don't you think?" She asked, tugging lightly on the beads for emphasis. She mumbled to herself, "Never thought I'd get so much use out of them." Inuyasha remained deadly quiet, afraid to speak.

"Aren't you going to _say _anything, Inuyasha?" She asked angrily, all pretenses of sweetness dropped. Kagome withdrew her hand quickly, as if it had been burned. She turned away from him, hiding her sorrowful expression as best she could behind the curtain of her hair. She never thought she'd see him again. It was just what she needed to end a perfect day of futile analyzing in a hopeless job. An old ghost from her past, coming back to haunt her. With a vengeance. And an Armani suit.

* * *

Shampoo strolled languidly into the midst of the frenzy... or crime scene, if you will. Her purple hair blew dreamily in the steady breeze, whipping around her flawless facial features and exotic violet eyes. She was clothed in a very professional ensemble - a dark knee-length skirt, beige button up blouse, and a pair of designer glasses that were sleek and intelligent. If there was one thing she enjoyed the most about her job, it was dressing the part. Too bad the blouse was a little tight around the chest area, and the opticals she wore held glass instead of lenses. It was also a shame that the slit along the side of her skirt reached just a _bit _too high on her leg for professionalism.

But, so long as she got the job done, Ranma was all hers. She smiled keenly to herself. Now to pull off a convincing act. She studied the officers around her, deciding which to approach. All seemed either very engrossed in their work, or very idle. She sighed, unsure who to propose her lie to, until her shrewd eyes caught sight of a quarreling couple halfway across the park, next to a rusty picnic table. Perfect.

She strolled up to the woman casually, looking very meek and embarrassed. Or at least, she hoped that's how she looked. She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes plastered to her stiletto heels, and smiled to herself as the woman continued bantering and yelling at the silently guilty-looking man in front of her. She was being completely ignored By the woman, but the man in front of her seemed quite aware of Shampoo's presence. Good. She took a step toward the frightening woman, tapping her lightly on the shoulder and clearing her throat once more. The engrossed woman halted in her tirade, giving Shampoo an irritated glance before straightening and smiling kindly in embarrassed surprise.

"May I help you?" Kagome asked, somewhat guiltily. Shampoo smiled back warmly, relief flooding her pretty features. She nodded shyly, reaching into the bag she carried with her, and pulling out a camera and other odd tools.

"Yes, Sh- I came to study bullet holes. Is tree here? With bullets, I mean." Kagome looked for a moment as if she didn't comprehend, but quickly donned an understanding expression. She exclaimed, "Oh yes! That tree over by the burnt trash can is the one. Hold on a moment and I'll come with you." Shampoo struggled to keep her expression pleasant. She didn't _want _the woman's company, she wanted her permission to leave.

"That not necessary." She reassured the analyst, who was about to wave off the comment, when she saw Inuyasha giving the woman an appraising look. Shampoo winked suggestively at him while Kagome's back was turned, and his cheeks flushed a light pink. Kagome looked between the two, before angrily dismissing Shampoo with a, "You know what? Maybe you should go on ahead. I'll be right there."

As soon as Shampoo had exited the scene, Kagome stomped her foot violently, catching Inuyasha' attention quite effectively. Her eyes burned contemptuously, and she growled in frustration.

"Inuyasha, you are so - Uh! You're such a pervert!" Inuyasha's ear twitched as her voice rose higher and higher. He turned his head away from her smoldering glare, embarrassment causing his cheeks to grow pink once more.

"Well, you're - you're a control freak! And a bitchy one at that! You act like it was my fault you left the agency!" That stopped Kagome in her tracks, and her expression grew darker. The air grew tense, Inuyasha grew more and more anxious with dread. He knew what was coming now...

"Inuyasha..." Kagome began, her voice dangerously low, "... Sit! Sit! Sit! SIT!" She screamed, allowing her frustrations to become evident in the venomous tone of that one powerful word.

"You're such a jerk!" She cried, referring to years past, when she was no more mature than a child. She fled despairingly after administering her wrath upon him, and all he could do was lie face down in the collapsed ground surrounding him. He ground out through a mouth full of grass and dirt, "That wench..."

But the abused hanyou knew one thing was certain - he had hurt her again. The only thing he had promised himself he would never do again... he promised he would never make her cry. So much for avoiding past mistakes. _And _he had lost his tie.

**

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**A/N: **Yeah, okay. There you have it. Inuyasha has entered the story. I'm not sure how in character these guys are because, well, there are so many of them... I just can't keep track. I still have more people to introduce, dammit, and I think I'm getting a headache. Let me know how well you think the characters are... meshing... or if you don't think they are, let me know anyway. Thanks a lot.

**Author's P.S.** - did anyone catch the double meaning to the title? Or am I not half as clever as I think (or wish), I was:)

**Author's P.P.S.** - The more you review, the faster I update... hint... hint... yeah. Okay.


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